


Personal Space

by Glory_Jean



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-28
Updated: 2009-01-28
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:56:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glory_Jean/pseuds/Glory_Jean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Personal space and the Doctor don't mix</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Space

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff and nothin' but.
> 
> The side benefits of being heavily medicated for Winter ailments are strange and vivid dreams, apparently. Thanks to [**bananasandroses**](http://bananasandroses.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bananasandroses.livejournal.com/) for looking this over (and declaring it safe to post ;-) )
> 
> And you can credit my knowledge of [Pythagoras](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pythagoras) to the almighty Wikipedia.  
>    
> \---------------------------------------------------

He held his hand under her nose, the fruit clenched in his fist, forcing her to inhale the pungent scent. "Seriously, Rose. What would possess you?"

"They tasted good at the time!"

"Seriously?" He waved his hand under her nose again.

"Okay, okay!" She fended him off. "Point taken. How was I to know the people there consider what-ever-that-is breath to be a jail-able offence?"

"Well," he conceded, sitting beside her so closely his head was only inches from hers, "What should I expect from a women who dates someone with pickled _everything_ in his kitchen cupboards?"

"Oi! You're asking for a smack, you are!"

She turned towards him to wave a threatening hand in his direction, only to find herself staring directly into his eyebrows. Her sudden laughter spoiled the threat entirely.

The eyebrows in question shot out her line of vision. "What?" He frowned at her. "What I have I done to earn your derisive laughter now?"

His tone was pure exasperation and his face was so serious that for a moment she was almost fooled. So, instead of acknowledging his question, she smiled and smoothed the wilder strands of hair on his forehead into a more decorative level of muss.

"Do you even have a concept of personal space?"

"I'm not sure what you are implying, Miss Tyler." He sniffed imperiously.

"Okay, let me rephrase: Do you accept the need for personal space?"

His eyes took on a decidedly mischievous glint and the smallest hint of a smirk graced his lips.

"Now _that_ all depends on whose personal space we are discussing."

Rose fought a battle to keep her face neutral and lost miserably.

"Are you going to give me a straight answer or not?"

He merely wagged his brows and tossed the fistful of fruits into his mouth. He pressed himself even closer into her side, if that were possible, and trapped her in his embrace.

"Now, I'm going to expound, at great and excruciating length, about the theories of Pythagoras. Do you know about Pythagoras, Rose? No? Well, Pythagoras was a Greek mathematician, an Ionian to be precise. But he was more than that, oh yes, he was a mystic, a scientist, a philosopher. In fact, Herodotus _himself_ referred to him as 'the most able philosopher among the Greeks...'"

Rose wriggled in his arms, "Get off me, you nutter!"

But he rattled on, not the least bit discouraged.

In truth, he wasn't holding on to her _that_ tight. In truth, she didn't try _that_ hard to escape.


End file.
